


serendipity

by Astrid_Goes_For_A_Spin



Series: Iris Week 2020 [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), Superman & Lois (TV 2020), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cat Grant (mentioned) - Freeform, Central City Citizen, Commiseration, Female Friendship, Gen, Iris loves dessert, Lois and Iris becoming friends, Reporter! Iris West, Women Being Awesome, Women Mentoring Women, haphazard characterization of Lois Lane, they have a lot in common okay, unholy mix of CW Lois Lane with Smallville Lois Lane personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrid_Goes_For_A_Spin/pseuds/Astrid_Goes_For_A_Spin
Summary: Then it all catches back up to her all at once: there’s no more Earth-1 or Earth-38, and in practice this means that it’s entirely possible she can run into Lois Lane at a national journalism conference.On their own, Lois and Iris try to get to know one another and realize they have a lot in common.
Relationships: Lois Lane & Iris West
Series: Iris Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799020
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> Iris Week 2020 Day 3: Reporter!Iris 
> 
> I mean, they're all on one earth now, I just couldn't pass it up. I have no excuses

“Hey! West! West! EARTH TO IRIS WEST-ALLEN!”

At this, Iris turns to see who’s been shouting at her. The conference center is choked with people, and Iris would much, much rather be under the radar this weekend. But apparently she’s well-known enough now, at least in journalistic circles, that the back of her head is recognizable.

It takes Iris a moment to make out who’s calling to her. Pale skin, dark hair, an almost manic affect. The woman waving her over is so absolutely in Iris’s mental _uh-oh_ category that all she can do is blink and stare for at least two seconds.

Then it catches back up to her, all at once: there’s no more Earth-1 or Earth-38, and in practice this means that it’s entirely possible she can run into Lois Lane at a national journalism conference.

Iris wades through the crowds to catch up to her sort-of-friend, and Lois grabs her arm and tows her out of the foot traffic and into a hug.

“It’s so nice to see you doing something normal!” Lois exclaims, patting Iris on the back. While she talks, she’s already steering Iris towards one of the courtyards in the convention center, against the flow of people. “Is it just you here?”

“Yep.” Iris taps at her badge. “I only have three people on staff, so Allegra and Kamilla are back in Central sending their work for edits this weekend.”

“Oh right!” Lois points a finger. “I forgot you were at a do-it-yourself paper. How is it, being editor-in-chief?”

Iris laughs. “I don’t have time to win Pulitzers, that’s for sure. Do you know my entire staff is on Team Flash now? Half my work is doing cover-ups.”

Lois lets out a theatrical groan and guides Iris into a wrought-iron chair at a little table for two. “Hate that. Perks of still technically being on maternity leave after I spent almost two years off-planet is that Perry lets me do whatever I want as long as I’m sending stuff in every once in a while.”

A waiter comes by. Iris didn’t even know they were at a restaurant – but apparently there are several aside from the two food courts. Lois chats him up by name while Iris covertly tries to take some weight off her feet. Her pumps are _killing_ her. She sneaks a glance at Lois’s – she’s also wearing heels, but with the ease of one long since resigned to damaged Achilles tendons.

By the time Iris is tasting an absolutely _beautiful_ coffee-flavored gelato, their conversation has moved away from work: Lois tells Iris about living on Argo and the trials of caring for a half-Kryptonian infant here on Earth; Iris fills Lois in on meeting and losing her adult daughter in less than a year and about the months filled with dread that her husband’s time remnant might murder her. Lois commiserates by telling her about Lex Luthor, and Iris can’t help but worry about taking care of a future West-Allen who’s sure to be a speed-force-powered toddler.

“You and me? We deserve an award,” Lois says, snorting.

Scraping to get the very last of the gelato, Iris looks up at her. “Lois, you have two Pulitzers.”

“You will in time, once that little paper picks up,” Lois says carelessly, and Iris blushes. She might not have grown up on a world where Lois Lane’s name was newspaper royalty, but her confidence still feels pretty damn good. “Which it must if it’s still leading the metahuman beat from Nora’s time.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Iris says. “For once, the only things I know about the future are good ones.”

“Amen,” Lois chuckles. “God, I’d go crazy with all the time travel. Other planets I can handle. Alien husband, got it. But waiting kills me every time.”

“At least there’s oxygen on earth,” Iris says flatly. “I…cannot even _imagine_ traveling in space. It’s making my skin crawl right now.” She shudders for effect.

A phone chimes. On instinct, both she and Lois grab for theirs. Iris laughs a little – it’s only an alarm she set last night so she would remember she wanted to go to the panel at 3.

“I have to go!” Iris blurts, pulling out a bill and putting it down on the table, gathering up her purse. “I’m gonna be late to Cat Grant’s talk on growing a media company-”

“Oh, just skip it,” Lois groans. “If you really want to meet her, I’ll introduce you. She hangs all over my husband every time she sees him and drunk texts me about how much she hates my freckles and _adorable button nose_. We owe each other a few punches.”

“Lois!”

Whether Cat Grant’s talk is actually going to be good, Iris does not find out. The floor beneath her shakes, shakes in a way Iris knows in her gut is _not good_. Needless to say, she did not pack a plasma rifle for the journalism convention.

Lois, on the other hand, looks more energetic than Iris has seen her since the end of the multiverse. She’s got an honest-to-god pen and paper out (how does she have _time?_ Just record it!) and is already halfway across the room before Iris can stand.

“Lois! Where are you going?” Iris shouts after her.

“To find out what’s causing the earthquake,” Lois says like Iris is being an idiot.

Iris stares, and then the light comes on. They’re in a building chock-full of news media – most of whom are cowering beneath any cover they can find. They have no idea how widespread whatever this problem is, and people need information.

Iris and Lois are, perhaps, some of the only journalists in the world with the experience and chops to find out what’s going on in a (likely) unnatural disaster, and steal the scoop while they’re at it.

“I’m calling Barry,” Iris says, hurrying after Lois.

“Too slow, West,” Lois snorts. “I already pressed the emergency beacon in my watch.”

Chasing after her through the convention center towards street, Iris laughs. “You’re such a nerd.”

“A nerd who, if you’re not careful, is gonna steal your headline,” Lois points out. “And by God, your little baby newspaper needs it more than my storied career does. Go, get on the scene!”

As Iris nears the last few sets of stairs to reach the outside, she can see flashes of gold as Barry races around, presumably rescuing civilians from debris. This earthquake was so sudden – and in _Metropolis_ , not on any major fault lines. Iris flicks back through her mental catalog of catastrophes: Geomancer? Malcom Merlyn’s earthquake machine?

There’s the edge of a cape in view now out the glass doors, and Iris notices Lois isn’t with her – there’s a young woman on the stairs, gripping the railing like she’s afraid the sky might fall. Before Iris knows it, Lois is sitting beside her, coaxing her hands off, stroking her hair, urging her to stand. She looks up and meets Iris’s eyes.

“Go get that headline and scoop all these old bags,” Lois commands. “I’ve got it here.” 

Iris huffs a laugh, then reaches down and takes off her shoes. “Yes ma’am,” she says, snapping off a quick salute and dropping her purse.

Armed only with her phone, recorder app open, and the will to prove her newspaper will last into her daughter’s time on its own merits, Iris _runs_.


End file.
